


Indigo

by minflower



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Abstract, Angst, Fights, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Slow Burn, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-06-20 08:13:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15529941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minflower/pseuds/minflower
Summary: According to an interesting theory, there are children endowed with particular characteristics and supernatural abilities. Indigo children (as indicated by this concept) are distinguished by their strong empathic or creative skills. The same theory, however, also refers to paranormal powers such as telepathy, clairvoyance, or the ability to communicate with angels.





	1. The end and the beginning

[](https://ibb.co/kzUs6K)   
[](https://poetandpoem.com/Vasko-Popa)  


Minhyuk was wondering how he ended up there, reluctant of his own awareness. At that moment, it was as if he was recovering his breath after too many minutes of forced apnea. It was like regaining lucidity from a state of febrile hallucinations.  
His gaze was directed downward, leaning toward the floor of that parallel universe in which he had stumbled as a result of an impulsive decision. A minute before you're out, the one straight after... You are swallowed by darkness. This was all he knew.  
The walls were white without a hint of hue, like canvas that are destined to remain empty, as unpigmented as the straitjacket in which his slender body was trapped along with his dignity. But it was not the stormy rage that took place a few hours earlier to put him in that condition, no. Contrariwise, his mind re-proposed those scenes over and over with the meticulousness of a premeditated disaster, like a closed curtain theater of which he was the only spectator.

He couldn't remember the exact words, but he had well impressed in his mind the way those few statements were able to pierce his senses like a cold blade. He remembered his body starting to wriggle in the grip of denial, the imprecations of those who tried to block his movements, the smell of latex gloves and a needle stuck in his shoulder in an act constrained by despair. What happened before, or after, was nothing but the reminiscence of a distant echo.

He could still feel the burning right there, at the point where an unquantifiable dose of Stelazine entered his body with the impetus of a bullet, preventing him - yet - from walking in a way that he could control. "What an... Asshole" he thought with that bit of rationality left behind, while he was dangling among those unknown corridors of which he seemed to already know the destination, as if he himself was an integral part of that framework completely out of criterion: a blurred and mistakenly taken photograph.  
A hand pressed against his elbow tore the veil of illusion that enveloped his senses.

“This way” commanded a male voice on his right that, with a wave of a hand, pointed at the direction to follow in order to reach their destination: a door. Closed. Unbearably white.  
Minhyuk looked at the handle through his strands of honey blonde hair, anticipating the movements of a hand that soon went to clutch it. The same hand that immediately hurried to free the boy from the garment that was keeping him caged.  
“From now on, this is gonna be your place. Keep it neat and tidy, I'll send someone down to bring your stuff,” said the man now behind Minhyuk's back, who was taking the first steps inside the room that, judging by the two beds and the presence of someone else's personal belongings, was supposed to be for two. But who was the other person?  
However, the moment he turned his head in the direction of that dull voice, he decided he was not in the position to counteract. It wouldn't have made any sense. At that moment, nothing seemed to have one. He looked into his eyes without actually registering his face, stretching his - finally free - arms.  
Not receiving any response or reaction from the young boy, the doctor added some last recommendations before shutting the door and leaving Minhyuk to his privacy, his new room, himself at the mercy of his thoughts, still bewildered because of the psychotropic. “Your roommate, Changkyun, is currently having his lunch. He will be here shortly”

Despite Minhyuk's temptation was to abandon himself on the only bed still completely bare, he decided to desist from the instinct dictated by his psychological exhaustion and cling to what the reason advised him to do: look out the window, the only source of light and glimmer of reality present in that room. "Your place..." he whispered behind the gelid glass, frame of an usual landscape of a summer day. His breath immediately created a shroud of mist that blurred out the view of the city. From that perspective, life almost seemed to be the projection of an illusion. He wiped the halo out with the palm of one hand, and then held the latter on that smooth and damp surface, anchored to the desire for any kind of perception.

He kept thinking about the words of the man of whom he could barely remember the physiognomic traits. Not even him, despite having been working in that asylum for God knows how many years, would have even tried to call that place "home". There was nothing there that remotely resembled one. Those seconds were crucial to Minhyuk who started recovering his senses to establish the chronology of things. He started thinking about what had happened a few hours earlier. The way he abruptly recoiled from the doctor he was consulting, as soon as he heard words of which he was already perfectly aware. Words concerning his own mental condition. Seeing how his fears were taking the form of an illness that had taken hold of his mind terrified him. “I'm crazy... I'm... really crazy” he said in a whisper, as if raising the tone of his voice could have disturbed the hope that this statement was nothing but a recondite thought. Still in denial.

Looking at it from that perspective, the city was almost scary. What an absurd paradox. Was that the effect that that place had on people? Was the distortion of the cognition of things part of the game? Minhyuk emitted a laugh in a snort, as a result of which he laid his forehead on the window, attempting to remain anchored to that ray of reality.  
Absurd the way in which life continued undaunted, with or without him. Absurd the way in which, in a second, everything has stopped but at the same time continued running too fast right in front of his eyes. It felt like looking at a river and wondering what it would have been like to throw in and get carried away by the current. A current to which he used to belong, just up to a few moments ago.  
Ending up being passive spectators of one's own excistence, was absurd. The same existence that was slipping like ashes through his fingers, just like those cars that were running beneath the cold window from which Minhyuk was observing the flow of life. Him and the rest of the world were separated by a few centimeters of darkness and, if yesterday was nothing but a tool to build his future, today he was gathering pieces of himself.

His legs gave way, the air around him took the shape of a boulder pressed against his shoulders. He collapsed on the ground with his back pressed against the wall and his face resting on his knees, his arms encircled that crouched body in which Minhyuk sought a nest.  
His thoughts went to his mother, who did not even have the opportunity to say goodbye to because of the unexpected that had ripped him away from his everyday life. For who knows how long. He couldn't give any kind of explanation, neither. Not that an explanation was necessary with a person already aware of what tormented him since his first years of life. His pride led him to think that this was the right thing to do, while the most human part of him betrayed him in the trembling of his fingers clinging to his long hair. So much happened, in such a short time. And in an attempt to reconcile his thoughts by rubbing his face against the fabric of his jeans, a noise interrupted the flux of introspection.

It was the sound of footsteps. Someone opened the door to enter the room. One step, then another one. Then the creaking of a bed. When minhyuk looked up, his vision was still blurred due to the fact that he had kept his eyes closed until then. But he still managed to notice a figure, a guy apparently of the same age as him, sitting on one of the beds. He had a smile on his face and his head was slightly bent to one side. Not that minhyuk could have been sure, but that boy seemed to be amused. Perhaps curious. Carefree. He was wearing a yellow t-shirt and a pair of jeans that comfortably wrapped the legs he was rhythmically swaying from the bed.  
Minhyuk stood up, leaning his hand towards him in an attempt to introduce himself and establish a first contact sealed by a simple handshake. He wanted to seem friendly with who, he thought, was supposed to be his roommate. Changkyun, right?

“You are Changkyun... Right? My name is Minhyuk, nice to meet you.”  
The boy kept looking at him, without making any movement. He just laughed amusedly and looked away from Minhyuk who, at that moment more than ever, felt a sense of unease and confusion. He withdrew his hand in awe. “If I was Changkyun,” he emphasised on the word "I" as if he wanted to highlight the concept, “Then you can be sure that you wouldn't have received an answer.”

As he spoke, his hands seemed to follow the thread of the conversation more than he himself did. They couldn't stand still, not even for a moment. Before Minhyuk could respond or even react in some way to his words, he patted the mattress with the palm of a hand to invite him to take a sit. The weight of his torso slightly inclined on the bed was supported by the forearm set on that soft surface. He was completely at ease.  
“Sit here, Minhyuk. And let's have a talk.”


	2. Yellow

It was a summer day. One of those days where looking out of the window of a car is enough for you to get lost in a multitude of blended colours painted by the negligence of a ray of sun. Minhyuk, now sitting next to the intruder whose name was still a question, kept his eyes fixed on the fabric of that figure’s t-shirt. He was stuck in that shade of an artefact sun. The contrast with everything around them bothered him. It felt as if everything wanted to remind him that it was summer. Outside. Anywhere but there.

Inside, there was winter.

The frost.

White. A weird young man with a yellow t-shirt, who couldn’t stop mumbling words that were hard to pay attention to.

Indefinable noises.

Outside, the birds were chirping.

It was only when that guy noticed that Minhyuk was not paying any attention to his words, that he decided to extract a bag full of candies from his pocket and hand it to the newcomer. Oh - only after gobbling up a dozen of those gummy bears without even bothering to chew that mouthful, of course.

Minhyuk blocked him with one hand before he could get any closer, shifting his gaze elsewhere to avoid focusing too much on that vision that could have made him feel sick. He was impressed by the way he’s even managed to suppress an expression of disgust.

"I'm fine, thank you."

At that moment, Minhyuk realized that maybe it was better that way. Perhaps, it was better to preserve that patina of restraint. Not that he feared that person right in front of him, of course not. Or maybe yes. Maybe it actually was like that. Or maybe, he only feared the thought of becoming like _that_. A voracious candies swallower whose gab was that tragicomic scenery’s soundtrack.

Perhaps, he was only afraid of becoming one of _them_.

Only when his voice interrupted the chewing noise, Minhyuk took the courage to look at him again. From that perspective, he could have been mistaken for a child.

"So..." He took a short break to lick his fingers covered with sugar. As if it wasn’t already enough, he even punctuated the popping sound of his lips that were meticulously cleaning each fingertip. A masterful performance. He then continued.

"How did you end up here?"

And there it was. _The_ question.

"Well... I was the one who made this decision. It all started when – when I was a child, I started seeing... things, people, that weren’t really there. Hence my mother- "

 "OH!"

"What?"

"The bell! It's dinner time!"

The guy with the yellow t-shirt pointed his finger at the ceiling, as if to indicate a precise area of it, as if Minhyuk couldn’t notice himself that deafening noise.

If possible, he looked even more revved up after hearing that sound.

It was only a matter of seconds before the newcomer felt himself being pulled by an arm straight off that bed, leaving nothing to his cognitive forces except the choice of following him wherever he was heading to, renouncing even the mere possibility to oppose the will of a person that seemed to have injected some sort of fuel directly into his veins. And in all honesty, he would’ve rather spent time anywhere but there. He needed to keep himself busy, maybe entertained. And walking through corridors and corridors seemed to be the best option, probably the only one.

Most likely, they were headed to the canteen. They were definitely headed to the canteen.

* * *

 

The canteen was full of people, of course it was. And whilst the original question was “How did I end up here?”, what he later found himself wondering was if it actually was that easy. And whilst everyone seemed to be systematically inserted within a precise context of that parallel universe, Minhyuk felt like he had just disgracefully slipped into it. He was the piece of that puzzle that couldn’t fit in. He was amiss, a lamb in a cage of lions. He could feel a thousand eyes scratching his skin, in spite of the fact that nobody was actually paying any attention to his slender figure.

 “You- eat with plastic cutlery?”

The more he looked around, the more Minhyuk felt like he was building up a wall of questions. However, that one seemed to be the most convenient one to raise in that moment of complete uneasiness. He kept walking with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, seeking any potential kind of protection.

 “We do! See… every day is a picnic!”

Minhyuk let out a laugh that vanished in a whisker; an imperceptible rush of humanity towards that person that, maybe, was anything but dangerous. He found simply absurd the way in which that guy, a bit shorter than him, seemed to only be able to see the positive side in everything. He lived in a world of his own. And in his world, wickedness couldn’t exist. While continuing to follow him, Minhyuk felt a veil of envy in seeing how careless he was of reality.

_… But what was reality anymore?_

The yellow t-shirt guy eventually stopped in front of an empty table, encouraging Minhyuk to sit on one of the chairs with a theatrical hand gesture and something that resembled a bow.

“There you go, this is your throne for today!”

Minhyuk silently obeyed, though he sat on the chair next to the one that guy was pointing at. He didn’t want to take part to that spectacle, as he would have caught the attention of undesirable eyes. And he didn’t want that.

He was looking forward to eating. Actually, he was starving and he found that smell of food quite appetising. But he would’ve never admitted it, not even to himself.

How could all those people just keep living as if nothing was happening? As if all they had to do was go along with _it_? Breathe and wait for another day to come and pass, to slip away? He was angry, mad at what is life has turned into and he was mad at that whole place. And wouldn’t have been accepting food, a form of surrender? Was he fighting to hold on to a glimpse of perception of reality?

_… But what was reality anymore?_

“May I know your name, at least?”

Minhyuk ultimately asked.

“Oh, what a fool I am! My name is Jooheo-“

“Jooheon?”  
A firm and decisive voice presaged the arrival of a person from the other side of the table. His eyes were fixed on the guy who was standing next to Minhyuk.

"What the hell are you doing? Who gave you permission to spend time with him?"

“KIHYUN!”, Promptly answered the guy whose identity was finally revealed, spreading his arms in the direction   of that third person and reaching him for a hug.

That hug was however instantly rejected with a simple gesture of hand that prevented him from approaching any further. “Back off”, that person added, now focusing his attention on the other figure.

“And who allowed _you_ to speak to him?”

 His eyes were almost expressionless, empty. In neat contrast to his body, which assumed an attitude of superiority. Confidence. His arms were crossed on his chest and his face was slightly tilted to one side. His lips took the shape of a mocking smirk, a shameless attempt to provoke the person sitting a few feet away from him.

“I should have asked for a permission to who? To you?”

Minhyuk stood up, his expression was strangely calm yet assertive. “And who are you?”, he followed.

He was perfectly aware of the fact that that was not the right time. That was not the right situation, and he was not in the position to have enemies. But he could’ve hardly accepted the idea of having to spend time there in general, let alone if surrounded by strangers that would’ve targeted him for simply existing. Probably that person thought he had stumbled into a fragile and malleable individual, but Minhyuk was nowhere near those characteristics. And if his intention was to push him around, Minhyuk knew for sure that he wouldn’t have let it happen. By hook or by crook.

Jooheon didn’t say a single word. He was there, still, impotent spectator of a catastrophe. He probably didn’t want to get in troubles. He probably knew. More than Minhyuk, for sure. What Minhyuk couldn’t see was the sense of awareness in Jooheon’s eyes: the prediction of an inevitable tragedy.

“Well,” Kihyun walked towards Minhyuk, fearless. Their height was slightly different as the latter was evidently taller, but this didn’t seem to bother Kihyun. At all. With his face a few centimetres far from the gaze of the other, he continued, “it’s a pity you don’t know who I am. However, I know who _you_ are, Minhyuk. You came all the way here by yourself, uh? I am surprised your mother didn’t reject you the moment she found out what an actual psychopath you are.”

Minhyuk perceived adrenaline rushes going through his veins, whilst his rationality commanded him to interrupt that eye contact and abstain from impulsive reactions. He took a breath. Maybe two. Everything was happening so fast, too fast. His head felt heavier and, for a moment, he wondered whether it was the floor moving or his feet. One step, two steps forward. He was losing control at the deepest of his fragilities. “Not another word,” he thought, maybe whispered. “Shut up” he eventually mumbled, his eyes were shut but he could still see his face. He could feel it getting closer, and closer.

_Too close._

However, that wasn’t enough. Not for Kihyun.

“Oh, wait! I’m sure she did in the moment when you claimed you could see you father! But…”

A few more centimetres forward.

“Isn’t your father dead, Minhyuk?”

The final straw. A last gaze, a loud noise.

Anger.

And then the darkness.

* * *

 

 

What happened after, well, that’s something Minhyuk could barely remember. But he knew, for sure, something happened. How? His knuckles were itchy

His eyes were shut, his heart was trying to break free from his own chest. His fingers were rubbing the injured hands, the remainder of a silent witness. The evidence of what he did. He refused to check how deep those lesions were, reluctant of facing the umpteenth proof that he deserved to be there, he deserved to be left alone because there was nothing to do, not anymore. There was nothing but himself, curled up on the floor with his forehead resting on his knees. Vulnerable and lost. Once again.

He was put in isolation.

All he knew, in that moment, was that the only thing he could hear was the sound of his own voice. Or maybe his thoughts were just too loud for a place like that.

“What… What have I become…” He whispered. Over, over and over. The absence of a window there gave his perception of time the interpretation of an illusion.

However, there was something that was driving him insane. Even more, if possible.

He had the feeling somebody was watching him. In that isolated room, what a paradox. He knew for sure, he told himself he was just being paranoid – but. He decided to raise his head and check.

Just in case.

Somebody, from the other side of the room, smiled.

“Hello, Minhyuk.”

In that moment more than ever he thought he was losing it. But there was a person, a man, sitting on a chair right in front of him. He was sure of that.

Minhyuk stood up, he froze halfway down the room and he stared at him. Quietly. Silence swallowed up any inkling of sound, the bright light of the room burned his eyes like salt on a fresh bruise. But before he could even think of trying to formulate a meaningful sentence, the man tilted his torso towards him. His forearms were resting on the armrests of the chair. His calm voice preceded Minhyuk’s flux of thoughts.

“My name is Hoseok. I’m your therapist.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I'm back here after so many months. It feels unreal.  
> This is a transitory chapter, as I'm introducing new characters! I really hope it gives you an overview of what the situation is, and how the story is structured in general!  
> II want to thank my friends for convincing me not to give up this story because of my insecurities. It's just the beginning and I hope this second chapter has aroused curiosity in you, so many things are gonna happen. And I can't wait to tell you about them.
> 
> Thank you for reading this far, thank you for being here and thank you for giving this story a chance!  
> As always, I'd appreciate it so much if you could leave a comment. Preeeetty please? ;;

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, hello, annyeong ~  
> I don't really know how to start when it comes to these kind of things!  
> I'm an Italian monbebe and, as you can imagine, English isn't my first language but... I'm trying my best! TT  
> Moreover, this is my first / ever / fanfiction.  
> Although I absolutely love writing, I have never tried anything like this before. So here I am for the first time, hoping you'll enjoy my story!
> 
> Any kind of comment will be well appreciated: advices, criticisms or suggestions, I will always be happy to hear your opinion.  
> I hope this chapter has aroused your curiosity, so many things are going to happen and I can't wait to introduce all of the characters.  
> Thank you, in advance, if you have decided to give this fanfiction a chance! ♡


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